


Sorted

by MuggleMaybe



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Coming of Age, Community: HPFT, Gen, Harry Potter Next Generation, Mystery, Next Generation, On Hiatus, Slytherin, Slytherin Pride, Sorting, Sorting Ceremony
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-05-28
Updated: 2016-05-28
Packaged: 2018-07-10 19:04:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 12,679
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7000918
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MuggleMaybe/pseuds/MuggleMaybe
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <em>I was the first Weasley not to be in Gryffindor, and the first Potter as well. One or the other would have been bad enough, but together? And I wasn’t simply not in Gryffindor, oh no. I was a Slytherin. On the other hand… I was the first.</em>
</p><p> </p><p>Welcome to the world of Lily Potter, Slytherin.</p><p>**ON HIATUS**</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Sorting

**Author's Note:**

> J. K. Rowling owns the Potterverse. Who knew? ;)

_Lily Potter could hardly sit still as her dad parked the car in the King’s Cross lot. Every year for as long as she could remember, she had watched her cousins and brothers board the Hogwarts Express and wished with all her heart she could join them. Practically every night she had listened to stories from her parents’ days at school and longed to have adventures just as incredible as theirs. Her aunts and uncles had shared many stories over the years, too. Her brother’s letters home drove her imagination wild with excitement and jealousy. Quidditch games! House points! She could see it all perfectly in her mind: the glorious castle featured in numerous_ Prophet _photos, the spark of magical energy around every corner, the wide enchanted ceiling of the Great Hall. And, best of all, the red and gold splendor of the Gryffindor common room, the place where every single member of her family had found a home. Never had a Potter or Weasley been sorted into any other house._ Never. _True, the predictability of it was a bit dull. And, yes, a secret part of her heart yearned to be different, to stand out as more than just the baby of the family, as someone who could be just as important as her father someday. But she dreamed of Gryffindor. Of course she did. A grin spread across her face as she followed James and Albus to the platform._

 _  
Finally,_ finally _, it was her turn to become a Gryffindor._

* * *

I looked out at the sea of faces, feeling a little sick to my stomach. “Hufflepuff!” The sorting hat declared, and a blonde boy scampered off to the appropriate table.

Professor Flitwick adjusted the list in his hands and called the next student. “Parkinson, Natalie.” I didn’t pay much attention as the hat considered Natalie. I was counting Weasleys in the crowd, making myself feel better. It was easy, since all six of my cousins were at the Gryffindor table, along with both my brothers. They were predictable as ever. Hugo and Freddie were laughing at something Roxanne must’ve said. Albus and Rose sat near them. A ways down the table, James and Louis – who, as fifth years, thought themselves highly sophisticated – were making grotesque faces at each other. And Lucy sat at the far end of the table, looking a bit anxious as she took in the mess of rowdy students, her Head Girl badge glinting in the light of the chandeliers.

Then, far too soon, the hat sent Natalie off to some house or other, and Professor Flitwick called the name I’d been waiting for. “Potter, Lily.”

My knees felt so shaky I was afraid I might fall over on my way across the platform, but I managed to reach the chair, lift the hat, and set it on my head, where it immediately fell over my eyes so that I couldn’t see a thing. I have to admit, it was a relief to escape from all those faces, even though they could still see me.

“Well, how about that!” Said a voice right in my ear, and I knew it was the hat, speaking only to me. “Interesting, interesting. Let’s see here… You’re quite plucky – you’d make an excellent Gryffindor. But loyal, too, and certainly willing to work hard. Not a bad brain either, although, well, I don’t think Ravenclaw is the place. But I’m missing something… I have a suspicion, in fact…” the hat mused. “What is it that you want?”  
So many thoughts rushed through my mind at the question. I wanted to be a hero like my father. To be a famous Quidditch player like my mother. To seem valuable among the herd of Weasleys, to stand out. To have a successful business like Uncle George, or maybe even to be Minister for Magic someday. And…

The hat gave a quiet chuckle in my ear. “I thought as much.”

… And to be in Gryffindor, I finished my thought. But the sorting hat was already speaking, and it was saying, out loud now, with every student and professor looking on:

“Slytherin!”

The Great Hall was deadly quiet. I stood from the stool, replaced the hat, and walk numbly off the platform. My heart caught in my chest as I passed the Gryffindor table - the table I had expected to join for my entire life – and saw the horrified expressions on my cousins’ faces. My brothers were even worse. James looked as if he had just been told Voldemort was his grandfather, and the betrayed look in Al’s eyes made me want to cry. I bit my lip and forced one foot in front of the other. As I approached the green-clad table toward the back of the room, a rumble of gossip rose up out of the silence, necks craning to get a better look at me. The Slytherins were so shocked that they hadn’t even bothered to cheer and were staring with the same disbelieving faces as everyone else. For a moment I wished fervently that I didn’t come from a famous family, that I could walk to any table without causing a stir, but then I felt a deep rush of adrenaline. For eleven years I had competed with two older brothers and nine older cousins for a moment of attention. Now, for once in my life, everyone’s eyes were on me, and that was worth savoring. With this in mind, I managed to look straight ahead and approach the Slytherin table with what I hoped seemed like absolute composure.

I took my seat with a strange combination of pride and shame running down my spine. I was the first Weasley not to be in Gryffindor, and the first Potter as well. One or the other would have been bad enough, but together? And I wasn’t simply not in Gryffindor, oh no. I was a Slytherin. On the other hand… I was the first. Suddenly, completely out of the blue, my dream of standing out had come much closer. It was an overwhelming combination of feelings and I wanted nothing more than to curl up and have a good cry, but that wouldn’t do. Obviously. So instead I turned to the girl next to me at the table, stuck out my hand, and said, “Hi, I’m Lily.”

I happened to find myself addressing Natalie Parkinson; apparently she’d also been sorted as a Slytherin. Her round face was framed by long blonde hair. She had an upturned nose and a decided chin, but also a quick, dimpled smile. She gave me the once over – what she was looking for I couldn’t have said, but it seemed I had it – and granted me an impressed nod. Then she shook my hand and replied, “Yes, I gathered that. I’m Nat.”

I quickly discovered that Nat had a biting, brilliant sense of humor. As the remaining first years took their turns at the sorting, she whispered to me what the hat might have been saying. “Well, I suppose it will have to be Hufflepuff,” she scoffed, studying a pudgy boy with a vacant expression. It was rather mean, I know, but he did look a bit pathetic, and Hufflepuff did have a certain reputation. Anyway, I needed any distraction I could get if I was going to keep the tears back. When the hat sent him to join the yellow and black-clad table, I couldn’t help but grin. In fact, Natalie was right about nearly everyone.

“Here, you try this time,” she said, as Wao, Min took her seat on the platform. I examined her. She was a slight, pretty girl, with shiny black hair. She sat remarkably still, the hat just over her eyes, and her expression was completely unreadable, an absolute picture of control.

“Oh, you’re a sly one,” I said, my voice imitating the hat’s. “Definitely a Slytherin.” 

“Hey, don’t say that about your own house!” Nat hissed, laughing. But the next moment the girl was walking over to join us, and my new friend was forced to abandon her smirk. For the next student she guessed Gryffindor, winning out over my prediction of Ravenclaw. “Ha! That last one was just beginner’s luck,” she teased, the smirk returning.

We continued the game for the next few first years, Natalie pegging every student. The last to be sorted was Rafi Zahir, a Middle Eastern looking boy who wore glasses. We both looked him over for a moment.

“He reads a lot,” Nat declared. We had abandoned the pretense of talking for the hat, in favor of more astute guesswork. “And he likes school. He’s a Ravenclaw.”

Even though she had proven herself the better guesser, I couldn’t help but disagree. He was wringing his hands in an anxious way, but he had also managed to keep the hat from covering his eyes. Hardly anyone else had managed this, and to top it off he was taking in the mass of people and the grandeur of the Great Hall with an expression of cool contentment, and maybe just a bit of greed. I shook my head. “No,” I said with absolutely certainty. “This one is a Slytherin.”

“No way,” Nat answered.

“He is. I know it.” 

“Let’s wait and see.”

Rafi Zahir turned out to take an unprecedentedly long time to sort, and Natalie and I had to wait a whole six-and-a-half minutes before the hat finally called, with a shadow of relief in it’s voice, “Slytherin!”

“Yes!” I yelled, my cry of triumph buried under the cheers of the other Slytherins. 

Nat rolled her eyes at me, but she was grinning all the same.

Rafi sat down at the table just across from me. “I guess you and I are the oddities tonight,” he said with a nervous grin. While I knew exactly what he meant about me, and although I wasn’t offended – he was absolutely right, after all – his words did increase the tightness in my throat. What would mum say? What would dad say? I pushed the anxiety down and focused my attention on the boy. I wasn’t sure how he was an ‘oddity’ himself, and was on the verge of asking what he meant when Headmistress McGonagall stood. The hum of chatter died out instantly. 

“Now that all of our new students have found their homes, let us welcome them.” The hall rang out in cheers from every table, until McGonagall raised her hand to quiet us. “Welcome, also, to the returning students. Let us hope a few months’ rest has you ready for a productive school year.” She paused for a moment. “Dinner is served.”

The headmistress returned to her seat. I could see Neville – Professor Longbottom, that is – sitting only a few places to her left, chatting amiably with a dark-skinned, middle-aged man. Then, out of nowhere, the empty plates on the table filled with the most delicious assortment of foods. Despite the enormous amount of sweets I’d eaten with my cousins on the train, I found that I was nearly desperate with hunger and loaded my plate accordingly. The shepherd’s pie looked particularly marvelous. Next to me, Natalie was spooning mashed potatoes onto her entire plate, and made a face of disgust when I offered her a delicious looking tray of roasted carrots. I could only laugh at her. 

Now that the sorting was over and I had some food in my belly, I started paying closer attention to the people around me. Of course there was Natalie on my right, and Rafi Zahir across from me. The pretty Asian girl who I’d spotted as a Slytherin was a few seats down, chatting with a serious-looking boy wearing a Prefect badge. They both looked as if they were trying not to seem bored, and failing miserably. On my left there were a few girls, maybe around third year like Albus, and on their far side a very good-looking blonde boy of the same age. The girls were obviously admiring him, while he determinedly ignored them. All together, there were nine new Slytherins, and something like 70 students in the house. And really, for the most part, they didn’t seem so bad. Sure, there were a few rough-looking older boys, and a handful of snotty-seeming girls. Still, considering all the things I’d heard about Slytherins, they didn’t seem like as bad a lot as I’d been expecting.

*

When the feast was over, McGonagall gave another little speech about not going into the Forbidden Forest. I wasn’t really listening. I was too busy freaking out silently to myself. During dinner, between Nat’s hilarity and the interesting chatter around me, I had managed to avoid my horror over the sorting. Now though, at the prospect of sleeping for seven years in the dank dungeon Uncle Ron had once described to me, I found ignoring my Slytherin-ness significantly more difficult. 

Over the hubbub of students heading off to various common rooms, I heard someone say, “Slytherin first years this way!” It was the Prefect who had been talking to Min Wao during dinner. He sort of puffed out his chest when he talked, and I was reminded strongly of Uncle Percy. And, well, I love Uncle Percy… but I wouldn’t call that a compliment.

Rolling my eyes, I shuffled into the little group that was forming behind him. I watched the Gryffindors enviously. That’s where I belonged. Those were the friends I was supposed to have. I felt a heavy ache in my stomach. Then we turned a corner and my attention was forced back to my own house. All together, there were four boys and five girls. Three of the boys walked together, chatting, and I had the impression that they had known each other for years. As we followed Percy, Jr. toward the appropriate corridor, one of them stuck out his foot, tripping Rafi. He stumbled, but regained his balance quickly and walked on without acknowledging them. The offenders hooted with laughter, their faces disappointed at his speedy recovery.

We followed the Prefect down a grand-looking set of stairs, along several corridors, down again on a tightly wound spiral staircase, and through several more corridors, before coming to a stop in front of what appeared to be simply a stone wall. I could tell we were in the dungeons, because it was cool and the only light came from torches spaced along the walls at rather long intervals. 

“Here we are,” The Prefect announced. “Now before we enter, a few words. Firstly, my name is Bartholomew Barron, sixth generation. I am the senior Prefect for Slytherin house, along with Miss Zabini.” Here he paused to gesture at a pretty girl standing behind us, reading Witch Weekly and chewing a wad of Drooble’s Best. I hadn’t even noticed her. At his introduction she waved a cursory hello and snapped her gum, not bothering to look up from her magazine.

“Yes, well then,” Bartholomew continued, clearly annoyed at his partner’s disregard, “welcome to the best house in the school. I am sure you are all most enthused to have joined us. This is the entrance to the Slytherin common room. Obviously it’s a secret. No non-Slytherin has ever been inside, so don’t go spreading word about it.” I looked up in surprise. Considering my own father and uncle had been Gryffindors and had got in the Slytherin common room, I knew this wasn’t true. Bartholomew seemed to believe his words, however. “You need a password to enter, which changes every two weeks. It is up to you to find out the new password. Knockturn Alley,” he added, and a passageway appeared in the wall. Most of us were pretty unfazed – I had heard and seen far stranger things with parents like mine – but Rafi seemed positively awestruck, though he quickly masked his amazement and followed the rest of us through the tunnel into the room beyond.

Uncle Ron was not the most reliable source when it came to his adventures at school, so I was both relived and unsurprised to see that the dungeon was not actually filled with water. (He had described a sort of swimming obstacle course involving merpeople and the giant squid.) Instead, it was a long, posh room. At its center was a roaring fire that succeeded so well in warming the space, I suspected it had been charmed. The mantle above it bore an elaborately carved snake in the shape of a giant ‘S.’ Tall, elegant armchairs in deep green velvet and black leather were arranged in groups, lit by hanging lamps. The windows were heavy, clearly not meant to open. As it was nighttime, only the faint whitish glow of moonlight came through them, but I could see eerie shadows of movement on the other side of the glass. The overall feeling of the place was not dank and grotesque, as I had expected, but a sort of dark glamour.

Our dormitory, decorated in green and silver, contained five four-poster beds. My trunk was there, set neatly in its place by some diligent house elf. It was already quite late, the feast having gone on until nearly ten o’clock, and I was tired. Bed would be a relief. I opened my trunk and pulled out my hairbrush as Nat vanished into the bathroom.

“So, you’re Lily Potter.” I whirled around. The speaker was one of the students I hadn’t met yet, a girl with sleek curls the color of molasses and a haughty expression. She had just entered the room, accompanied by a shorter girl who looked between us anxiously but said nothing.

“Yeah, I am.” I answered. I could feel the weight of confrontation, but chose to play dumb. “You must be my roommates.”

“I’m Becky,” ventured the second girl, grasping at my peace offering, and the first one shot her a glare. I waited expectantly for the other name.

“Alexa.” She seemed to think telling me this was practically a gift from the gods.

“Nice to meet you,” I said, forcing a smile.

“What exactly are you trying to pull?” Alexa responded, completely ignoring my attempt at manners. 

“Alexa, don’t,” Becky muttered, but her friend clearly wasn’t the type to back down.

“No, I want to hear this. What makes you think you’re good enough to be in Slytherin? I mean, Harry Potter’s kid in Slytherin? It’s absurd.”

The truth was I was more surprised than anyone, but I bristled at her tone. “I’ve got just as much right to be in Slytherin as anyone. Besides, it was the Sorting Hat’s decision, not mine. If you’ve got a problem, that’s who you should talk to.”

“Oh, believe me, I will be solving this problem very quickly. A blood traitor like you is not going to ruin Slytherin for the rest of us!” At this Alexa spun on her heels and marched out of the room. 

Becky stood shocked for a moment and then looked at me in horror. “Oh Merlin, I am so sorry! I didn’t know she was so... Alexa can be kind of awful. Sometimes she’s nice, I swear. Well, not nice, but, I mean, not like that…”

“You already know her?”

“Our mothers are friends.”

“Oh.” I thought of the three boys who’d tripped Rafi. They clearly knew each other, too. They were probably from dark families, Death Eater families, even. I didn’t know anyone in Slytherin house. My parent’s friends were Aurors and Muggle’s rights activists. Aunt Hermione single-handedly engineered the House Elf Protection Act. My mum once – infamously – hexed a former Death Eater at the Quidditch Cup for calling her teammate a Mud Blood. And my dad… my dad was Harry freaking Potter. I let myself slide off the bed and onto the floor. “She’s right,” I admitted. “Me being in Slytherin, it’s absurd.” 

Becky sat down next to me. “That’s okay. A lot of the blood purity stuff is a load of dung, anyway. I mean, my mum is pureblood, but my dad is half-blood. Nobody really knows. They’re divorced, so it doesn’t come up that much. But my granny, the Muggle one, is pretty much my favorite person in the world… Hey, you won’t tell anyone, will you?”

“No, no, of course not.” I wanted to cry. Didn’t my father nearly give his life so that Becky could be half-blood and no one would give a knut? I recalled my brothers’ faces as I walked to the Slytherin table and wondered again what my parents would say.

“Thanks. I should probably find Alexa.”

A moment after Becky left, Nat came back from the bathroom, her hair wrapped up in a towel. “Hey Lily, where is everyone?” And then, noticing my face, “Are you alright?”

I blinked away my tears. “Yeah, I was just thinking,” I answered.

Nat started to respond, but then the door opened, revealing Becky, followed by Alexa and Min, who were chatting lightly. I was surprised – I wouldn’t have thought Alexa the friendly type. When Min saw me, she stopped cold, just as her companion had, and I was sure she was about to attack me, but instead she said, “You’re Lily Potter. I mean, you’re the actual Lily Potter. You’re, like, basically famous.” 

I could feel my face turning scarlet. Sure, the idea of being famous was nice. But I wanted it to be for something I’d done myself, not because of my name. “My parents are famous, but I’m just normal. It’s really not a big deal”—

“You absolutely have to introduce me to James!” Min squealed. “He is sooooo cute!” 

“What?” I was completely blindsided, not least because of the contrast between this and her cool attitude during the sorting. I guess you really never can tell about a person.

Everyone else had climbed into bed by now, but Min dug in her trunk – she was so small she almost fell into it – and emerged with a neatly trimmed magazine photograph OF MY BROTHER. Was this really happening? 

“Just look at that smile!” Min was hanging the photo over her bed now, and then another, also of James. The other girls looked on in amusement.

“Oh, for the love of Merlin!” I groaned. Becky giggled behind her hands. James was shirtless in this picture, and I was with him, wearing a sundress and walking along the beach. I remembered that day. It had been only a few months ago, when we were vacationing in Brighton. The ruddy paparazzi guys wouldn’t leave us alone. I got up and crossed the room to Min’s bed. The laughter died out. “Take them down!”

“Make me!”

“See if I don’t!” I reached up and pulled off the Brighton picture. Min grabbed for it.

“Give it back!”

“You can’t hang photos of my family. It’s creepy!”

“It’s not my fault you have a gorgeous brother!”

“Ew! Can you please just stop?” I gave the picture a forceful tug, and it tore a little at the corner.

“You ripped my picture!”

Natalie sat up in bed, threw back her covers, and shot me an exasperated look. “Will you both please SHUT UP? Min, you can’t hang pictures of Lily’s family. It’s weird. Lily, James is definitely cute. Now, both of you, go to bed. It’s late and I need my beauty sleep.”

I don’t know why it worked, but Min yielded to Nat’s speech and removed the photos. Satisfied with that for the time being, I gratefully returned to bed and was soon asleep.


	2. The Painted Ladies

Snow swirled around me, catching in my hair and on the wool of my green mittens. I looked up. The Burrow glowed with light and laughter. It was Christmas Eve, I realized, and I hadn’t seen my family for so long. Joyful, I ran to the front door and burst in. Everyone was there. I waved to Grandpa – he didn’t see me – and searched the crowd for my mum and dad. Strangely, no one said hello or even seemed to notice my arrival. I finally found dad playing chess with James.

“Happy Christmas, daddy!” I hugged him from behind. He didn’t respond. Not even a flicker of his eyes in my direction. “Daddy?” Nothing.

Panicking, I sought my mother. “Mum? Where are you?” I was yelling now, but still no one acknowledged me. I darted between relatives until I finally located my mum, talking with Uncle George. “Mummy, what’s going on? Why can’t anyone see me?” She didn’t reply. I might as well not have existed. Tears streamed down my cheeks. “Mummy, help me!”

Then, out of nowhere, Albus turned to face me, his eyes deadly cold. I felt a rush of relief – someone could see me! – until he opened his mouth. “You’re not one of us, Lily. How could we ever love a Slytherin like you? I hate you.”

I collapsed into a sobbing mess on the floor. And then, out of nowhere, Alexa’s face floated before me, saying in that icy voice, “What makes you think you’re good enough to be in Slytherin?”

*

I woke in a cold sweat, the sheets twisted haphazardly around my limbs. It was a dream, only a dream. Thank Merlin. I sat up. What time was it? I felt like I’d been asleep for days, but my alarm clock showed 2:41 AM. Tears continued to roll down my face. Going back to sleep seemed impossible. I slid out of bed and padded silently down the corridor to the empty common room. It was eerie in the darkness, not the right sort of place for crying.  
What I really wanted was to see my parents. I’d settle for James or Albus if it came to that. Even at the worst of times my big brothers could make me laugh. Wishing I had my dad’s invisibility cloak, I felt my way through the common room to the tunnel on the far side. The doorway opened up for me when I reached the end, and the next moment I was alone in the Hogwart’s dungeon.

I had always imagined Hogwarts full of activity, so it was strange to see the castle still and silent. I moved randomly through the shadowy, deserted passageways and up staircases, eventually reaching the Great Hall. Above me, the enchanted ceiling reflected a moonless sky, inky blue and gleaming with thousands upon thousands of stars. I craned my neck up as far as it would go and traced the swirl of the Milky Way with my index finger. I’d always loved stars, but you couldn’t see them like this at home. My eyes roamed the sky for a while, getting lost among the beauty of it. _Lost._ Oh, bugger. 

Suddenly realizing my mistake, I returned myself to the castle. I needed to find Gryffindor Tower, but I didn’t even know my way back to the dungeons, let alone to my brothers’ house. How could I be such an idiot? Obviously my first night at school was not the time to be wandering the corridors after curfew. Sliding myself into a niche behind a suit of armor, I wracked my brain for anything I knew that might help me find the Gryffindor common room. Surely one of my family members had mentioned something at some point? They must have done. So why couldn’t I think of anything helpful? 

I was on the verge of giving up and going back to the dungeons, when I recalled watching the Gryffindor first years leave the feast, heading toward… which way had they gone? I closed my eyes and tried to picture the scene. We’d walked back to the far door and the Gryffindors had gone… There! A corridor to the left, lined with suits of armor. I set off, wandering the halls.

After another thirty minutes, I realized I was more hopelessly lost than ever. I should have stayed in bed, I thought, but I knew if I didn’t see my brothers I would go crazy. During the sorting, it felt like they hated me. I needed to explain what happened, to swear I never wanted to be a Slytherin, that I was as shocked as they were. As I thought this, it dawned on me exactly why I was so upset. It wasn’t really that I hated the idea of being in Slytherin. What I hated, truly hated, was the feeling of being a traitor to my family. How could they ever forgive me? The memory of my dream overwhelmed me, and I sank onto the floor, tears rolling down my cheeks. 

“Oh my dear, whatever is the matter?”

I almost shrieked from surprise at the voice, kind though it was. Looking around wildly and not seeing anyone, I stammered, “Wh-who’s there? Where are you?”

“Over here.” I turned around. The speaker was a witch in the painting behind me. The scene seemed to be of a knight, currently asleep, and the woman looked out of place, crowding the gilded frame. “Now, go on. Why are you crying?”

“Because my family hates me!” I answered, and the tears came harder than ever.

“Oh, I’m sure that’s not true.”

“It is. And because I can’t find the bloody common room!”

“Well, now. That I can help with. Which house?”

“Gryffindor.”

“Splendid, splendid. Raphaela won’t be too pleased, mind you. At this time of night, and before classes have even begun! But I’ll show you the way.” 

“You know where it is?” I wiped away my tears with the back of my hand and stood up. 

“Of course I know where it is!” The lady gave me an indignant look. “Right then, follow me,” she said, walking out of the scene in the painting and disappearing from sight. A moment later she reappeared in the next painting, moving carefully so as not to wake the sleeping bear that inhabited it. In this way she lead me through the deserted castle. Well, not quite deserted. At one point Peeves the Poltergeist – who I had heard enough about from various family member to know meant trouble – swerved around a corner. Only a well-placed suit of armor saved me from being spotted. A bit later, a yellow-eyed cat pushed its way through a door right in front of me, looked directly at me, and trotted purposefully away.

“She’ll be telling Filch,” the lady in the painting said. “We’d better hurry.” Filch was the school’s ancient janitor, and notoriously horrible. Uncle George had some pretty nasty stories about him. I jogged to keep up with the lady’s pace now, and before long I stood in front of a portrait of a very large woman. She was snoring a little as she slept. Something jogged in my memory. This was the Fat Lady.

“Raphaela,” my guide hissed, poking the Fat Lady. “Raphaela, wake up.”

The woman came slowly awake, before sitting up with a start. “Violet? What’s going on?”

“First year student,” she answered, gesturing at me. 

The Fat Lady gave me an unimpressed look. “Really, at this time of night! What could you have been doing up?” She grumbled. 

“Sorry,” I mumbled.

“Well, give me the password and get on with it.”

“The password?” I felt panic rising up

“Oh, for Merlin’s sake, child! Don’t tell me I brought you all the way here and you don’t even know the password?”

“Sorry,” I said again.

“Well, you won’t be getting in without it.” The Fat Lady said.

“Deep fried pygmy puffs!” I said in frustration. 

“What was that?” Violet asked, eyebrows raised.

I blushed. “Deep fried pygmy puffs.” It was a fake curse Al and I had invented to annoy our mother. 

“I know who you are!” The Fat Lady exclaimed. “You’re the little Potter girl, the one who got sorted Slytherin.” 

“Slytherin? What are you up to going to the Gryffindor common room?” Violet gave me a severe glare.

“I just want to talk to my brothers. I couldn’t sleep.”

“Oh, this is stupid,” said Violet. “I’m going back to my portrait and getting some sleep.”

“You should do the same,” said the Fat Lady, firmly but a bit more kindly now.

My heart sank. All of that for nothing and I still had traitor’s blood. I turned to go, just in time to see two people come around the corner.

“Louis?” I said. He was holding hands with a curvy brunette, though he quickly let go when he saw me.

“Lily? What in the world are you doing here?”

“Who’s she?” Asked the girl.

“Just another cousin, Maddy. Go into the common room. I’ll be in soon.”

“Whatever,” the girl answered. And then, “Shrivelfig,” she said to the Fat Lady, and the portrait sung open to reveal a hole in the wall.

“Shrivelfig? Really?” I gaped.

Louis ignored this. “You didn’t answer my question.”

“I wanted to see James and Albus. After the sorting, their faces… I just really need to talk to them.”

“Bloody hell, they were upset. I mean, Slytherin, really? It’s madness.”

I started crying again. I couldn’t help it.

“Okay, okay. Sorry. Look, I’ll tell them to come down.”

“Thanks, Lou.”

He disappeared through the portrait hole. I waited for what felt like a very long time but was probably only five minutes, and then the Fat Lady sung open again, to reveal the sleepy-eyed face of James.

As soon as I saw him, I flung myself into his arms, crying quietly onto his chest. He didn’t say a word, just wrapped an arm around my shoulders and let me wet his shirt with tears. Our parents would have fainted with surprise to see us; James was good at hiding his kindness. But it was always there. He’s a good bloke, my big brother. After several minutes, my eyes dried up, and we both sat down on the floor.

“Thanks for coming.” I said, when I had my voice back.

“I’d never abandon my Lilly Billy.”

“James!” I said, protesting his use of my childhood nickname. “Seriously, though. I thought you’d all hate me.”

“It was pretty shocking, I admit. I mean, with everyone else I wondered a little. But I guess by the time it was your turn, we all just assumed the Potter-Weasleys were automatic Gryffindors. It took the Sorting Hat about two seconds to sort most of us.”

“You’re not helping.”

“What I mean is, I think we were just caught off guard. I’m sure everyone will get used to it.”

“Where’s Al?”

“Ah, well…” He drifted off, and I knew Al must be furious. “He’ll come round. You’re still the same annoying Lily you always were. They’ll all realize that soon enough.” I shoved him a little with my elbow, but I did feel better. He was right; I was still the same person I’d been at King’s Cross fifteen hours before. We sat in silence for a little while. The simple fact that he’d come down to see me, that he was staying to comfort me and not yelling at me for betrayal, was enough. And the others would forgive me eventually.

“James?”

“Yeah?”

“Thanks. Oh, and watch out for Min Wao. She’s mad about you. It’s a bit frightening, really.”

“Good tip,” he laughed. Then he told me how to get back to the dungeons, and woke up the Fat Lady to head back to bed. (“Honestly, a person can’t get a moment’s rest in this place!”)

James gave good directions, and I found the dungeons without a problem. (I don’t know how he knew where the Slytherin common room was. That’s James for you.) I was walking along the last corridor, when I heard the creak of a door behind me and a voice said, “What have we here?” Filch grinned, “I don’t think Professor Quinn will be too thrilled to be woken up at this time of night.” Then he marched me down the hall to an unmarked door and knocked loudly. “Student out of bed!”

After a few moments, the door opened, revealing a middle-aged witch with a long blonde braid, wrapped in a black silk robe. A soft light illuminated the inside of the luxurious chamber behind her. “Can’t this wait until morning?” She asked.

“Student out of bed,” Filch repeated, shoving me toward her a bit for emphasis. 

“Yes, I see that. Lily, right?” She looked me over carefully before offering a hand to shake. “I’m Professor Quinn, your head of house.”

“Nice to meet you. I’m sorry we woke you up,” I said. I meant it. She was the kind of person you instinctively wanted to impress.

“I’m sorry, too. You’ll serve a detention with me directly after dinner tomorrow night. I’ll spare you the misery of losing points for the house on your first night here. Mind you, I won’t be so kind the next time. Off to bed with you, now. Goodnight, Lily.” Despite it all, she said it with a slight smile. Professor Quinn seemed like a good sort, really. 

“But, but… surely at least ten points, professor?” The janitor stuttered.

“Goodnight, Filch,” Quinn said, her voice final. Then she shut the door and I scampered back to the common room before Filch could take matters into his own hands.


	3. Detention

My exhaustion the following morning was cancelled out by adrenaline. Hundreds, maybe thousands, of times I had watched family members do all sorts of things with nothing more than their wands and a few words. I envied it all, from the mundane magic Nana Weasley used to chop onions, to the hugely powerful magic my dad used as an Auror. Now, finally, I was starting school, and I was determined to learn as much magic as I could. Filled with excitement, I got to breakfast early. Generally I wasn’t much for eating until lunchtime, but I managed a slice of toast with jam and a steaming cup of tea. Just as I was pouring myself another mug-full, Natalie sat down beside me. Eyes heavy with sleep, she nodded in greeting and helped herself to a heaping plate of eggs, sausages, and two heavily buttered pieces of toast.

I couldn’t help but grin. “Hungry, are we?”

“Breakfast is the only worthwhile meal of the day,” Nat answered. “Pass me the pumpkin juice.”

As time wore on, the Great Hall filled up. The other girls from our dorm came down together. Alexa gave me a superior glance before leading them to the far side of the Slytherin table, Min trotting admiringly behind her. Becky smiled at us apologetically as she passed, but followed the pack all the same. The first year boys came down shortly after, though I noticed that Rafi was missing.

Across the hall, Louis and James entered together, Al and his friends following close behind. Lou had the brunette with him again, and blushed when I caught his eye. James smiled reassuringly and waved. Albus, however, took one look at me and turned his back. I sighed. Would he ever forgive me?

Luckily, at that moment the mail arrived, providing a pleasant distraction. Dozens of owls flew in, wings spread wide. To my surprise, our family’s large tawny was along them. Mellona was her name, and she landed on the Gryffindor table. A bit later she reappeared, dropping an envelope on my empty plate. I offered the bird a kipper, which she accepted with a pleased chirp before flying off. The letter, I knew, must be from mum and dad. Had they heard about the sorting? Were they angry? Disappointed? Ashamed? I shoved it into my pocket without reading it.

When most people had finished eating – though Nat was helping herself to one last sausage – the Prefects came by to give us our schedule.

“Potions and Charms this morning, then Herbology after lunch,” Nat read through a mouthful of sausage. The thought of Herbology made me brighten. It would be nice to see Neville, even if he was head of Gryffindor house.

*

The morning passed in a blur. Professor Quinn, who I’d met rather unfortunately the night before, turned out to be the Potions master. The classroom was in the dungeons, near to our common room but much less comfortable. It was chilly and smelled a bit sour from years of potion-making. Nat wanted to sit near the back, but I dragged her to the front of the room.

The Hufflepuff first years shared the class with us. I watched with interest as they arrived. There were more of them than us, I noticed. Several wore a wonderstruck look suggesting quite plainly that they had never seen a bit of magic before the previous day. Natalie studied the probable Muggleborns with friendly curiosity, introducing herself cheerfully to a pair of twins, Marcus and Melinda, who sat behind us. Some of the other Slytherins were less than welcoming, however. One of the clique-y boys from my house started a game of keep-away with a Huffepuff boy’s copy of _Magical Drafts and Potions_ , and I distinctly heard the word ‘ _mudblood_ ’ muttered in Alexa’s voice. I brought my wand up instinctively at the word, little though I could do with it, but was stopped by the arrival of Professor Quinn. Moments later the bell rang and she had only just called for attention when Rafi burst in, looking extremely the worse for wear.

“Sorry, professor,” he panted. “Got turned around…” I heard a few snickers.

“Take a seat, Mr. Zahir. Detention with me after dinner. As it is the first day and the castle can be a bit confusing, I will not dock points. But – and this goes for all of you – my generosity will not last. Beginning tomorrow, I expect you at your desks with parchment and quills out when the bell rings.” She gave the class a pointed look, and everyone began rummaging around for ink and paper. When we had settled ourselves, Quinn resumed talking, this time dictating to us the basic definition of a potion.

After Potions, we had Charms with Flitwick, the tiny and ancient professor who was also Deputy Headmaster of the school, as well as head of Ravenclaw house. At the beginning of class, he did the normal first day of school stuff – attendance, rules, etc. – and then wasted no time before handing out feathers and teaching us our first charm. It was Wingardium Leviosa, the levitation charm. I suppose he figured floating feathers couldn’t do much damage, so it was a safe start.

Well, at least in theory. Jake Avery accidentally managed to make his feather start on fire, and Becky’s feather was somehow transformed into a live chicken. Flitwick spent a good ten minutes chasing before he was able to undo the spell, the whole class hooting in laughter. Except Becky, who was horribly embarrassed.

The first person to actually levitate his feather was Rafi Zahir. (“Ten points to Slytherin!” Flitwick squeaked.) Unfortunately, Alexa was the second person, and she was already lording it over the rest of us two seconds later. Natalie and I just rolled our eyes and kept practicing.

I’m not too modest to add that I was the third person to get it, only moments before the bell. I had given up on any real success that day, but then something shifted. I felt the different parts of the spell all clicking together. The words and the movements and the intention reformed themselves in my mind as one singular action, and I knew it was going to happen before it actually did. A shimmering kind of energy ran through me, and I watched in amazement as my feather floated gently into the air. Magic.

After Charms, it was off to the Great Hall for lunch – I tried to ignore the fact that Albus still wouldn’t look at me – and back to the dungeon to exchange books before Herbology. We spent a grubby lesson digging around in the greenhouse and listening to Professor Longbottom explain the uses of the Moly flowers we were planting. I didn’t really talk to him, but he waved when he saw me and seemed completely unconcerned that I was there as a member of Slytherin house.

That was a nice change, as I'd been getting some glares in the cooridors.   
 

*

Dinner came and went, and before I knew it I was slumping down to the potions room for my detention with Professor Quinn. Rafi was already there – I had forgotten that he also had detention with Quinn that night – weighing out portions of slugs and looking more than a little disgusted.

“Ah, Miss Potter,” Quinn said, glancing up from her lesson preparations. “Just in time. Mr. Zahir is working on the slugs. Why don’t you take charge of the eye of newt?” She gestured to a gigantic vat of eyeballs floating in a milky liquid. My stomach rolled and my dinner very nearly made a second appearance, but Quinn either didn’t notice or didn’t care. “Fill up jars, four eyes to a jar, until you’ve used them all. When you are finished, you may return to the common room. I will be next door in my office if you run into any problems.”

She moved into the adjacent room, leaving the door open a crack. I took in the hundreds of eyeballs with a shudder, wondering how I would ever manage it.

“Might as well get it over with,” Rafi muttered.

I nodded dully, and started in on my task, trying to ignore the way the eyes darted around, looking at me as I measured them. Only one jar in, and I was almost sick with disgust. I turned my back on the eyeballs, gulping down my discomfort.

“At least you don’t have to do the slugs,” Rafi said. I looked at him in surprise.

“I’d rather do the slugs.”

“Really?” He was incredulous, who knows why.

“Want to trade?” I offered.

“Good idea.” He showed me how to weigh out the slugs, since I hadn’t been there when Quinn showed him, and we swapped. Of course, mushy slugs are still pretty nasty, but not nearly as bad eye of newt.

I would have been happy to work in silence – not that I’m shy, but this kid had already gained a reputation as being somewhat awkward and I wasn’t sure I wanted to talk to him. However, he seemed to have other ideas.

“So,” he began, “did your parents go to Hogwarts?”

I looked at him, eyebrows raised. Everyone – everyone - knew about my parents. “Um, yeah, of course they did.” I knew I sounded like a snot when I said it, but I was so surprised I couldn’t help myself.

“Oh, yeah, yeah, mine too.” He seemed weirdly nervous all of a sudden. “My parents were, um, in Slytherin. Of course. Obviously. Pure blood through and through. One hundred and ten percent magic. Can’t have any, um, Muggle borns, um, I mean, mu-mudbloods messing things up, um, right?”

My heart sped madly and I swirled around to face him. “No, not right! That is not right at all! I’ve met loads of fully qualified Muggleborns who are better witches and wizards than you’ll ever be, and if you ever say anything like that again, I’ll – I’ll hex you until you can’t see which way is up!” I was breathing heavily, and I realized suddenly that I’d drawn my wand and was holding it about a millimeter from Rafi’s face.

Rafi took a slow, cautious step away from me. “Wait, Lily, it’s okay.”

“Like hell it is!”

“I’m sorry I said that. I didn’t mean it. It wasn’t remotely true, anyway. I only said that stuff because of what you said about your parents. I thought you were, you know, like… the others.”

I thought of the boys teasing him in potions that morning and was fairly sure I knew who he meant. But why would that make him act all blood-purityish? Then again, why had he been so anxious when he’d said those things? And he’d as good as said he was lying, but why lie about that…?

I took in the desperation on his face and, with a rush of understanding, I knew. Deep fried Pygmy puffs! “You’re a _muggleborn_. But… you’re in Slytherin. You’re a _Slytherin_ muggleborn!”

He nodded, wearing a look of extreme relief. “The first in history, according to the Sorting Hat. McGonagall warned me to be mindful of who I tell. I thought you might be safe. Everyone was so surprised you got Slytherin at the Sorting, I figured you couldn’t possibly be like the others, but when I asked about your mum and dad just now…” He drifted off.

“Wait, you really don’t know about my mum and dad?”

“Um… what do you mean?” Holy Horntail, he really didn’t!

“My dad is Harry Potter,” I stated.

He looked at me blankly.

“Harry Potter? The Boy Who Lived? Defeated Voldemort? Head of the Auror Department?”

He was as confused as ever. This was unbelievable. I had never imagined that anything like this could even happen.

“Okay…” I took a long breath, gathering my thoughts as I dumped a pile of slugs into a jar. “Let me put it this way. My family is really famous, especially my dad. Like, one of the most famous wizards of all time. And he’s famous because back when Voldemort”—

“Volde-who?”

“Merlin, okay. We’ll start at the beginning…” And we did. As we worked through the rest of our disgusting tasks, I gave him the whole story, starting all the way back during the first war. Sure, I went pretty quick through a lot of it and left quite a bit out to save time, but Rafi was fascinated anyway. And it was kind of fun to tell the story. I had never gotten to tell it before, I realized. Not ever. Everyone already knew it, so talking about my dad (or anyone else in my family, really) just felt like bragging. But this was different. Every event in the history was a surprise to him, every act of magic a new revelation about the world. And, well, maybe I was showing off a little. Not that it was _my_ story, considering I hadn’t even been born yet when it happened, but my family contributed important characters. I was proud of them. Before I knew it we had both finished our detention work and the story had reached its end with the victory at the Battle of Hogwarts.

Rafi laughed as we began cleaning up. “I was more right than I knew the other night, wasn’t I?”

“What are you talking about?”

“At the feast, when I said we were the oddities. I knew I was an oddity, being a muggleborn Slytherin, but I just said it because everyone was staring at you. I didn’t know _why_ they were staring at you. But I guess I understand it now.”

“Do you think they were right? To be shocked?”

“Well, I see why it was surprising.” I feigned throwing a jar of eyeballs at him. He grinned and ignored me. “But, that doesn’t make it bad, you know? That Sorting Hat is pretty smart. I’m sure there’s a good reason you wound up a Slytherin. And me, too.” He added as an afterthought.

That was something worth pondering. I looked at Rafi, who only a few hours before I had dismissed as awkward. I’d been wrong to think that. He was nice. And he was smart. Not just book smart – there was a certain kind of intelligence in his face, a thoughtfulness. I hadn’t ever met a boy with that look before.

We were both silent for a moment, surveying our work and thinking about the story, about all the things that had happened back then. In some ways, it seemed like another world. But in other ways, it seemed the same. I thought of Becky swearing me to secrecy about her Muggle grandmother, of Alexa’s muttered “mudblood” that morning, and of Al’s face at the sorting, just because I was in the house Voldemort had been in. And I knew, in that moment, that even though my parents and their friends had won the war, there were still plenty of battles to fight. Battles a Gryffindor would never know about, but that a Slytherin – that _I_ – would encounter everyday. And I would win. No matter what.

It turned out to be harder than I expected.


	4. Expelliarmus

Our afternoon break a week later saw me collapsed on my bed in the dormitory. I was still having nightmares, mostly variations of my Christmas dream. The restless nights seemed to be catching up with me. “What’s got you so tired?” Nat asked, looking up from the floor where she was searching under the bed for her copy of _One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi_.

“Nothing. I couldn’t sleep last night.” It wasn’t even a lie. “Hey, we have a while before class starts. Do you fancy checking out the Quidditch pitch?” Maybe some flying would wake me up.

“You’ve got a broomstick? I thought first years weren’t allowed them?”

“Drat, no, I don’t have it. I forgot.” I let myself fall back onto my pillow. 

“It was a good idea though,” Nat offered. 

“It’s so unfair! I don’t see why being a first year should make any difference. I’m every bit as good at flying as Al, and he’s got a broom” – I jumped up - “I know! We can use my brothers’ brooms. I bet they’re in the shed down by the pitch.”

Nat grinned. “Now that’s what I call a brill idea.” 

We went by way of the owlery because Nat had a letter for her parents to send. Mellona found me right away, nipping my ears affectionately. I smoothed her feathers and shrugged her off. I still hadn’t written to my parents or read their letter, and even the sight of her made guilt stir in my stomach. Natalie gave me a wise look.

“You can’t avoid it forever, you know.”

“I know.”

She hesitated a moment before asking, “Is that what the dreams are about? Telling them you’re a Slytherin?”

“Sort of. How did you know?” I hadn’t said a word about my nightmares to anyone. 

“It wasn’t that hard to figure out, Lil,” she answered, with that characteristic roll of the eyes. We turned and continued walking toward the pitch.

Suddenly something occurred to me. “I know your parents were in Slytherin, but I don’t know if it’s what you wanted.”

“Oh, I guess I didn’t really care that much, as long as I didn’t get Ravenclaw.”

I laughed. Even our brief acquaintance was enough for me to know that Nat wasn’t the bookish type. 

“Honestly, my parents didn’t care either,” she went on. “I mean, they’re probably glad I got Slytherin – carrying on the family tradition and all that – but I don’t think they would have minded if I got a different house. Some of my relatives would’ve been furious, though, especially my Aunt Pansy. She’d have married a Deatheater if she had the chance.” Nat wrinkled her nose in disgust.

“Oh, look,” I pointed, “there’s the Quidditch shed. But what…?”

Nat followed my gaze to where someone was banging against the door with both fists. “Is that Rafi?”

“I think it is.”

She rolled her eyes again and said good naturedly, “What a duffer. Hey, Rafi! Whatcha doing?” 

He looked up in alarm and then relaxed when he saw who it was. We were close enough now for normal conversation. “I wanted to have a go at flying, but the shed’s locked. Got any ideas?” 

Looking at his hopeful face, I couldn’t resist a smile. This was one piece of magic I’d known how to do for a long time. I pointed my wand at the stubborn lock and said, “Alohomora.” We heard a small click, and the door swung open.

“Wicked!” Rafi said, and the three of us high-fived as we squeezed into the rather cramped space.

The shed smelled of wood and polish and rust. I found James’ Nimbus 3000 near the front, and searched for a while before locating Al’s Comet 360.  A haphazard pile on the other side was clearly the school brooms, most of which looked like they’d been around when the place was founded.  I kept the Nimbus for myself, handed the Comet over to Natalie, and watched as Rafi picked out a knobby old thing from the school collection. Finally he chose one, and we went back into the sunlight. I swung a leg over James’ broomstick, kicked off hard, and… Oh, the breeze! I soared up and up, then hovered for a bit, admiring the view of the grounds. Mossy green lawn sloped down to the time-weathered stone of the castle, bordered on the south by the great rolling lake, and framed on all sides by the dense canopy of forest. My hair whipped around my face, blocking my view, and I dropped a bit lower so that I could tie it back. Natalie streaked by me, taunting, and I chased after her, loving the cool air on my face and the rush of adrenaline as I gained speed. 

Eventually we returned to the ground, collapsing in a tangled heap of giggles.

“Where’s… Rafi?” I gasped, still trying to catch my breath.

“Here,” came his reply. 

I rolled over so I was flat on my back. “Why didn’t you join us?”

“Why do you think?”

Then I understood. He was a Muggleborn, and possibly the most magic-sheltered one I’d ever met. His family wasn’t exactly likely to have a spare quaffel or a racing broom on hand. True, Madame Polk had given all the first years a flying lesson the week before. However, now that I thought of it, Rafi hadn’t been there. Probably he’d been in the hospital wing with a jinx from Avery. Of course he wouldn’t know how to fly.

“Come here and I’ll show you,” I said, gesturing with the broom. After a few demonstrations  - and a couple rough attempts – he finally got a solid start. Not that he was some kind of prodigy, but he was flying, anyway. He grinned down at us, teasing, until eventually Nat couldn’t take it and sped after him. I followed close behind, laughing at their antics. When we’d finally had enough, we locked the brooms up and realized with a shock that we had just barely enough time to make it to Defense Against the Dark Arts. The Defense professor, Professor Rogers, was a retired Auror, a real military type, and there was no way we could show up even a millisecond after the bell without getting detentions. We sprinted back to the castle, dashing up the staircase, and collapsed in our desks just as the bell rang. 

“Miss Potter, Miss Parkinson, Mr. Zahir. Five points from Slytherin for your tardiness.”

“But we weren’t late!” I let my indignation slip out.

“Do you want me to take another five points, Miss Potter? Now, class, please turn to page 13 in your books…”

My cheeks burned, and Nat offered me a sympathetic smile and a shrug. Just let it go, she was saying. 

The next few weeks passed in a similar fashion. We spent our classes narrowly escaping detentions and our free time avoiding the surly upperclassmen who dominated the common room. Study sessions with Nat and Rafi were full of laughter, though Rafi kept us more or less on task. We taught him exploding snap and Wizard’s Chess – he was surprisingly good, and before long was more likely to offer advice than request it. Occasional, secret joyrides on my brother’s brooms – Albus still wouldn’t look at me – and breezy weekend afternoons by the lake rounded things out.

**  

By the time Halloween rolled around, I had learned quite a bit about survival in Slytherin. First of all, standing up to older students was uncommon and dangerous – they’d hex a first year with no remorse. So far I hadn’t had real reason to get in their way, luckily, but I felt sure something would happen eventually. I did dodge quite a few hexes due to my last name, but these were mostly underhanded, furtive attempts, and I choose to pretend they were so feeble that I hadn’t noticed them at all.

On the other hand, you needed the older students to like you enough to tell you the password. Only the seventh years were told when it changed, and they would tell their friends. They wouldn’t tell first years, ever. It was tradition. The unspoken rule was, you could only tell people in your year or the year right below you. We were supposed to buddy up with second years and the password would trickle down to our ears eventually. Luckily, we’d made friends with a few second years early on, Sophie Young and Samantha Thibbens. About half out of all the Slytherins would only talk to me long enough to call me a blood traitor, and it was just as bad for Rafi. His name was completely unknown, something unusual for a Slytherin. He’d kept his background a secret so far, but it was obvious to anyone who cared that he wasn’t a pureblood. Natalie had an easier time – Parkinson was a well-regarded name among the Snake Eaters. 

Snake Eaters was our name for the students who still believed in “blood purity” and that load of rubbish. They were the kids who everyone would have thought of as future Death Eaters back during my parent’s day. Our year contained four of these: all three of the boys besides Rafi (Avery, Goyle, and Thicknesse), and Alexa. It was a shame because, even at 11, Jake Avery was quite good looking. Until he opened his mouth, that is.

On Halloween morning, I slept late and woke with a jolt of excitement. I had the delicious feeling of something special waiting just around the corner. In the common room, I found Rafi and Nat sharing a discarded Daily Prophet. Predictably, Rafi was reading the front page news while Nat laughed at the Saturday comics page. Nudging her over with my hip, I squished in beside her on the leather sofa. 

“How’d you get such a good spot?” I asked. They’d chosen seats right in front of the fire, which was prize territory among the Slytherins.

“Apparently there was a big Halloween party in the south dungeon last night. All the upperclassman got utterly sloshed” Rafi answered. “We haven’t seen anyone over third year all morning.”

“Lovely,” I smiled, and cuddled in closer to Natalie. It was odd. Even though we’d only known each other for two months, it felt like a lifetime. And with Rafi, well, it didn’t feel quite the same, but it still baffled me to think how quickly we’d all become friends. Or enemies, I added to myself, as Alexa strutted past us and out into the corridor. 

“Merlin,” Nat scoffed, “she acts like she’s some kind of fashion model or something.” We spent a little while walking around like we thought we owned the world and falling over our feet as we laughed. Then Natalie’s stomach gave a tremendous growl, so we went for breakfast.

The mail arrived just as we sat down at the rather emptier than usual house table. Melona landed in front of me, carrying an envelope from my father and accidentally knocking over my tea in her insistence. 

Natalie opened her own letter, from her 14-year-old cousin at Beauxbatons, and read it aloud in a preposterous French accent. I was grateful for her antics, since they gave me time to shove my envelope, unopened, into my book bag. I’d received several letters from my mum and dad since the start of term, and every single one of them was unopened and hidden deep in my trunk. When I tuned back into Natalie’s recital, Rafi was eyeing me skeptically, but I ignored him. My relationship with my parents was none of his business, especially considering he wouldn’t tell us a word about his own family. We only knew they were Muggles.

After breakfast, Nat and I proposed a bit of flying, but Rafi shot us down. 

“We have that composition on Switching Spells for Transfiguration, a quiz next week in Charms to study for, 20 pages to read for History of Magic, not to mention practicing the Disarming Charm for Rogers. We’re going to the library.”

“The Disarming Charm?” Natalie retaliated. “But we all got that straight away!”

“He told us to practice,” Rafi answered, looking harassed.

“My dad says it’s the most important spell there is,” I said. “But let’s not go to the library. I don’t feel like being quiet, and we can’t practice defense in there, anyway. We’ll go out by the lake.”

We rushed back to our dormitories to gather our school things, and made our way out of the castle onto the grounds. It was a perfect sort of autumn day. The lake reflected the endless blue of the sky overhead, the air was pleasantly crisp, the leaves were turning plum and scarlet on the trees, and the whole world seemed to shimmer in a sort of golden light. Natalie had brought a blanket out with her, since none of us could conjure one just yet, and I lay down and positioned _The Standard Book of Spells (Grade 1)_ in front of me. I rather doubted that I would get a thing done. It was just too glorious a day to spend with my nose in a book. After ten minutes of rereading the same two sentences without taking a word in, I slammed the book closed and declared, “Let’s do _Expelliarmus_.”

Natalie weighed her parchment down with her book bag. On it she’d drawn several hearts, a cat, two witches on broomsticks, and not a word about Switching Spells. “Thank Merlin! I was wondering how long before you snapped,” she grinned.

Rafi admitted that he couldn’t focus either, so we moved a little bit away from our things and prepared for our imaginary duel. It was the first practical spell we’d been taught in Defense, and the first time we’d had reason to practice on each other. I could see from the way Natalie kept messing with her hair and Rafi’s fingers twitched that they were both a bit nervous. My heart raced a little, too. This was the spell my father had used to destroy Voldemort, the most essential defensive magic there was. I suddenly wanted very badly to be the best at this, just like my dad had been. But then, I was nothing like him, was I? I wasn’t even in Gryffindor. 

“Expelliarmus!” The shout came from Natalie, and a brief flash of white light enveloped me, threatening to pull my wand out of my grasp. However, I instinctually refused to release it, and was instead pulled forward, landing hard on my knees. 

“Nice!” Rafi called, and then, “Expelliarmus!” He directed it at Natalie. A jet of red light shot toward her, and the wand flew out of her hand and landed near my feet.

“Wicked!” I grinned at Rafi, picked up the wand, and threw it back to Natalie.

“Alright then,” Rafi said, “have a go, Lily.”

An enormous pressure built up in my chest, and I could almost hear my family speaking as they watched, Albus saying to our parents, “Of course she can’t do it, a Slytherin like her!” And Mum nodding her agreement. “I know,” dad would say, “such a disappointment.”

“Lily? Are you okay?” Natalie said. I hardly heard her. I was too lost in thought.

“Are you going to do it?” That was Rafi’s voice, as if from far away.

My whole body shaking with anxiety, I raised my wand and shouted the spell, the word jumbling itself up with nerves. “Expellimus!” There was a small flash of yellow, and a dormouse come flying toward me from somewhere behind Rafi. 

“What the…” Natalie began, running forward to see what had happened. She burst out in giggles. “It’s a mouse! You’ve summoned a mouse!” Rafi let out his own loud “Ha!” and the two of them collapsed in a fit of laughter.

Normally I could take a joke quite well. Being the youngest of three siblings, not to mention 12 cousins, had given me loads of practice. But for some reason, this time was different. I wanted to join in their laughter, but I just couldn’t do it. Holding back tears, I ran to the blanket, threw my things haphazardly into my bag, and sprinted off toward the Forbidden Forest. 

I reached the edge of the forest and stopped, leaning against a tree to rest. 

When I could breathe easily again, I walked slowly along the edge of the woods, half in the shadow of trees and half in sunlight. The day didn’t seem quite so magical as it had that morning. I was still crying, but silently, the tears slipping down my face like drops on a windowpane. Maybe Albus was watching me from Gryffindor tower, thinking that I deserved all I got. And he was right. I wondered what was in all my letters from Mum and Dad. They probably hated me. Then again, did I really believe that? They were good people, the best people in the world, as far as I was concerned. Surely the wouldn’t give up on me so easily. Maybe I could chance reading just one of the letters… I walked a ways further, until I was hidden from sight by a large pumpkin patch. I was still weary of my brothers or cousins watching me from the castle windows, no matter how unlikely it was. I sat down with my back resting against a particularly large pumpkin, and pulled my bag onto my lap. Rummaging through it, I found the crumpled letter Melona had delivered that morning and smoothed it out the best I could with my shaking hands. 

“Okay. It’s going to be okay,” I whispered, and tore open the envelope. Trembling wildly, I unfolded the parchment. The words swam, distorted by my tears. I wiped my eyes impatiently on my sleeve and forced myself to read. 

_October 30, 2019_

_Dear Lily –_

_Your mother and I are disappointed_

I stopped reading midsentence and dropped the letter. A tremendous wail, a sound I didn’t even know I could make, escaped my throat, and my tears came fast and thick until I could hardly breathe through the sobs. They hated me. 

I don’t know how long I sat there crying. It seemed to be hours. I must have been quite distraught because I didn’t hear anyone approaching and then, all of a sudden, I was looking at a tremendous pair of work boots.

“Lily, tha’ you?”

Startled, I managed to stop crying and look up – way up – at Hagrid’s beard covered face. His black eyes were concerned. “Hi, Hagrid,” I said. My words sounded soggy, drenched in tears. I wiped my runny nose on the back of my hand.

“I’ve bin wonderin’ when you’d come ter see me,” he said. “But if it upsets yeh all that much, yeh shouldn’ta done it.” 

Thinking that not visiting Hagrid was yet another thing my father would have found disappointing, my tears came back in force. 

“Easy there, Lily, I was only teasin’. Why don’ yeh come in an' have a spot o’ tea? Plenty o’ cream an’ no sugar, isn’ that right? 

I smiled despite my wet cheeks. There’s nothing quite like a friend who’s known you since you were born, who knows exactly how you take a cup of tes, to make you feel calm. “Yes, alright,” I said, and followed him into his hut.

Hagrid’s dog, an enormous Great Dane named Dragon, barked loudly when we entered, and jumped at me, causing me to retreat several steps.

“Dragon! Down!” Hagrid yelled. Seeing my nerves, he added, “Nothing to be afraid of, she’s the world’s bigges’ lap dog, she is. But she’ll lick yeh until yeh’re wet through.”

I couldn’t quite hold back a giggle at that, and Hagrid smiled. “Sit on the sofa and maybe she’ll join yeh. I’ll make us that cuppa.”

He did so, with a fair bit of clanging and several words that would’ve had Professor Rogers assigning us pushups. (This hadn’t happened in my Defense class yet, but my brothers and cousins had experienced it several times. Just a year before, he’d set Roxanne and Freddie 50 pushups each for hexing Kayla Flint in turns when she started spreading the rumor that Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes used illegal house elf labor.) 

I sat down on the sofa with Dragon’s head in my lap. After a short time, Hagrid set a perfect cup of creamy tea and a plate of biscuits on the end table. The biscuits were rock hard, but I soaked them in my tea until they were edible, and found they were rather like almond biscotti.

“These are good!” I said, unable to conceal my surprise.

Hagrid turned an alarming shade of pink and said, “It’s my dad’s recipe. Grew up on these, I did. But never mind that. Wha’ has yeh all worked up?”

Now it was my turn to blush. “It was nothing,” I said. “I was being stupid.”

“Don’ lie to me, missy. I’ve known yeh yer whole life and I’ve hardly ever seen yeh cry. Not since you were but a babe, anyway. Yer tough as nails, same as yer mum an’ dad.”

“I am?” I asked, looking up from my biscuit in surprise.

He laughed. “I reckon so. Now, yer brother James, he was a whiner, always in tears over summat or other.” We chatted for a while, exchanging funny school stories about my cousins and brothers.

When I finished my tea, I stood to leave, stretching my arms over my head. I really felt much better.

“Now, wait jus’ a minute,” he said. “Yeh don’ think yer leavin’ without tellin’ me wha’ happened, do yeh?"

“Oh, well…” I didn’t want to explain about the letter, because he would definitely make me read it, so instead I explained about the Disarming Charm and the mouse.

When I finished, I could tell he wanted to laugh, but he held it in. “It was a simple enough mistake, really.” He said. “You’ll get it nex’ time.”

“It’s just—” I tried to find the right words— “I’m a _Potter_. I should be able to do Expelliarmus with my eyes closed and my hands tied behind my back!” 

“D’you think your mum an’ dad got ev’ry spell on their firs’ go? O’ course they didn’!”

It seemed obvious. Of course they had learned it over time, just as I would. But it hadn’t sounded as true in my thoughts as it did in Hagrid’s candid voice. 

“Thanks, Hagrid,” I said, hugging him. Then I dashed off toward the lake.

It was well past noon now, but Natalie and Rafi were still there. Rafi was pointing out the mistakes in Natalie’s essay, much to her annoyance. “But you asked me to edit!” He was saying.

“Hmph, well, I’ll never ask again, you can count on that!” She looked up at the sound of my footsteps. “Lily! Thank Merlin! Will you check my essay? _Someone_ thinks I should be aiming for N.E.W.T. level, which is _absurd_.” 

“Oh, relax, Parkinson.” Rafi grinned. “Mostly it’s fine, but the third paragraph’s rubbish.” He handed back the parchment. Natalie seemed torn between relief and indignation and was closing and opening her mouth in silence.

I giggled behind my hand and said, “Forget that, are you game for a bit more defense practice?”

Rafi declined, saying he had to study for Charms, but Natalie agreed. A bit of nerves crept back in as I prepared to disarm her, but she yelled to me, “What are you worried about? You did it just fine in class!” Which made me feel much better. By the time we went in for dinner I was sure I’d be shouting _Expelliarmus_ in my sleep.


End file.
